


Wisdom Teeth

by GalahadWilder



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir
Genre: F/M, Fluff, oh my god the fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-01-31 05:46:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/pseuds/GalahadWilder
Summary: Adrien FaceTimes Marinette while high on painkillers after wisdom tooth surgery, and lets something slip that he really shouldn’t have.





	1. Chapter 1

Incoming Facetime From: ❤️Adrien❤️

At least, that’s what the phone said. Marinette looked up at Tikki, confused, but the Kwami could only shrug.

”I thought he was getting the homework from Nino,” Marinette said. “Why would he be calling me?”

“Are you going to answer it?” Tikki asked.

“I… I don’t know?” Marinette said. “Maybe he found out about my crush, or maybe—“

Tikki zipped down to the phone, tapping the “accept call” button, then disappearing beneath Marinette’s desk.

”Augh!” Marinette dropped her phone, tried to catch it, and smacked her head against her desk as it slipped through her fingers and landed, face-down, on her floor.

”…Hello? Princess?”

Marinette’s fingers scrabbled for her phone. “Hi it’s not a bad time at all sorry I dropped my phone are you okay did I hurt your face?”

“Is that why my teeth hurt so much?”

Marinette blinked, finally turning her phone around to face the boy she had a crush on. “Wait, no,” she said. “You had wisdom teeth surgery today.”

”Izzat why I can’t feel my face?” he said. He was lying facedown on his bed, his feet up by the headboard, dressed in silk pajamas. His hair was a mess, one that seemed almost familiar somehow.

”I, uh, yes?”

”Oh.”

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, Adrien’s gaze blank and glassy, Marinette’s panicked and searching, before she finally broke the silence. “Did you… get the homework?”

Adrien flopped his hand. “Pshh,” he said. “Superheroes don’t have homework.” He stopped, stuck out his tongue, and tapped his nose. “Cept patrol. But that’s more cause I like it.”

Marinette’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “Adrien?”

”What? No, I’m not… Shhh.” He put a finger to his lips. “You aren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

”Don’t tell anyone what?”

”My secret identity,” he said. “Ladybug said no one was supposed to know.”  
Ladybug said…? What was he TALKING about?

”She’s so pretty,” Adrien mumbled, wiggling happily against his bedsheets. “Pretty like you, Princess. You’re so pretty.” He tapped his finger against the screen. “So many freckles. How many freckles?”

Had he just called her _pretty_? She forced down her instinctive need to panic—he was delirious, probably didn’t even know what he was saying. “Adrien, are you okay?”

”Who’s Adrien? I’m Chat Noir,” he said, rolling his head. “Your eyes are so blue…”

Marinette shook her head. “You’re not Chat Noir,” she said. “That’s… that’s not possible.”

”Sure it is, Princess!” he chirped. “I brought you that leaf, remember? Did you like it?”

Marinette gasped. She hadn’t told anyone about that—Chat Noir had dropped by her house a week ago, carrying a leaf in his mouth and presenting it to her like a cat with a freshly dead mouse. He’d seemed so proud of it at the time…

”You’re… you’re Chat Noir!” she stammered. “You’re…”

”That’s what I’ve been saying,” he responded. “It’s your Kitty, Princess.” He scowled. “Why does my face hurt?”

”You got… wisdom tooth… surgery…” Marinette’s kind was racing. Chat had canceled patrol tonight. He NEVER did that.

There was a sound from somewhere offscreen, causing Adrien to jump. “Whoops, sorry, Princess,” Adrien said. “Nathalie’s coming. Gotta go.”

The screen went blank, leaving a very confused Marinette alone with her thoughts and a thoroughly flabbergasted Kwami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for the leaf thing: https://galahadwilder.tumblr.com/post/165120632023/ellohcee-okay-okay-theres-a-story-behind


	2. Chapter 2

The entire world stopped spinning.

Marinette stared at her phone, the afterimage of Adrien Agreste rapidly vanishing from the screen, and said nothing, thought nothing. What was there to say? What was there to think? Her carefully-constructed world was crashing down around her ears, and she sat in the middle of what amounted to a burning room, her mind screaming incoherently while her face seemed to be attempting to make friends with the “this is fine” dog.

”Hhhhhhhh,” she said. “Gggggg.”

_Yes, Marinette. Very coherent. Nicely said._

_“_ Marinette?” Tikki squeaked. “Are you okay?”

She said nothing, staring at the hand that—hadn’t it been holding a phone a moment ago? Then the phone hit the ground, and she realized she’d dropped it.

”Marinette?”

”...FINE! I’m fine!” Marinette squealed. “Everything’s great!” She thought of the dog again, and how appropriate that sentiment was to her situation. _System reboot, please try again in five minutes._

“Are you... sure you’re okay?” Tikki said.

Marinette squeezed her lips and eyelids tight and shook her head. “M-mm.”

Adrien was Chat Noir. More importantly—Chat Noir was _Adrien_.

Suddenly the world stopped tilting, twisting back into position centered around an entirely new edifice that stretched larger in her mind than she’d even thought possible before. She was in love with them. She couldn’t think of them any other way.

Whatever schoolgirl crush she’d had on Adrien not even moments ago paled in comparison to how she felt realizing that he was the partner she trusted beyond even life. Whatever attraction she felt to Chat Noir was nothing in comparison to the realization that sweet, kind Adrien was behind that sinful smile.

She’d only liked them both before, she realized. This was what love felt like.

She was so in love with them... with _him_... so in love with him that she couldn’t breathe. The realization was as inevitable as gravity, and as obvious as two and two equaling four.

”Marinette?”

”I’m in love with him, Tikki,” Marinette breathed. And just like that, it was out there. It had been said and couldn’t be taken back. Him, not them. Love. Adrien and Chat Noir were one and the same, and she needed him like she needed air to breathe.

”He... wasn’t supposed to reveal his identity,” Tikki said, grimacing. “That was reckless.”

Marinette smiled and waved her off. “He wasn’t exactly coherent, Tikki,” she said. “It’s not like we can blame him. Besides, it was really cute.”

Tikki blinked. “Oh no,” she said. “You’ve got it bad.”

”The worst,” Marinette agreed, smiling.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, nothing was different. Marinette was late for school, her friends greeted her on the steps, Adrien’s face was a little bit puffy but otherwise normal. It was just a regular day.

And yet everything was different, because Marinette could hear everything Adrien thought without him saying a word.

Working as closely as they had, Ladybug and Chat Noir has developed a near-telepathic ability to read each other’s body language. Adrien may not have been speaking the same language as Chat, but it was the same body. She could suddenly see the tiniest bits of tension and release in his unguarded muscles, each sending a hundred little messages he didn’t even know were there. She could see how badly he wanted to let a little bit of Chat slip through his “perfect” mask, and how afraid he was of what he might lose if he did. She stared at him, her pulse thundering in her ears, each beat of her heart whispering _I love you, I love you, I love you._

His eyes turned to hers, and she could see the tension shift—he was glad to see her, she realized, it was mesmerizing to be able to see the impact that she made on him—but at the same time, he was scared. “Hi Marinette!” he said, brightly, trying not to let any trace of his anxiety show.

”Morning, Adrien!” she responded. “How are your teeth?”

He rubbed his jaw. “Not too bad,” he said. “The swelling should go down soon.”

”That’s good,” Marinette said. Then, channeling a little bit of Ladybug: “I’d hate for anything to happen to a face that pretty.”

For a moment, she couldn’t even believe she’d said that to him—to _Adrien_. But she hadn’t. She’d said it to Chat. Chat, who was lurking behind Adrien’s eyes. And that made everything easy.

Alya and Nino stared at her, shocked, but Adrien (praise Tikki) only giggled. He immediately went back to sheepish, though, withdrawing into himself. “So, hey, I uh... I apparently called you on FaceTime last night? I don’t remember anything. Did I say anything...”

”Embarassing?” Marinette smiled. “Yes. But don’t worry, I’ll only tease you about it in private.”

Adrien’s mouth twisted. “Oh god,” he said, half-relieved at her discretion and half-terrified at her admission. “What did I say?” _Did I spill my identity?_

_Yes, yes, yes,_ her pulse sang, each beat of her heart like a tug on the red string between them, pulling her forward. _I see you, Chat._ She reached forward, booped his nose, flicked it. “ _That’s_ a secret for later,” she said. “Come on, we have class.” She was sure her body language was screaming at him as loudly as his was at her, _see me, see me_ , but he didn’t know she was Ladybug. He couldn’t read her. Not yet.

Adrien laughed, and she realized how different his real and polite laughs sounded—he actually snorted midway through a chuckle. “Guess we do,” he said, turning on his heel to walk towards the door.

Marinette twisted her head to look at a completely flabbergasted Nino and Alya. “Well?” she said. “You coming?”

Alya managed to shut her mouth, then opened it a few more times. “Depends, she said. “Are you going to tell me where the hell _that_ came from?”

* * *

 

”Okay, seriously,” Alya said as classes broke for lunch. “What the heck was that? Yesterday you could barely string a sentence together around him, and suddenly you’re... teasing him?”

Marinette shrugged.

”What did he _say_ to you on that call?”

Marinete smiled as she gathered her notebooks. “Well, I did promise not to tell,” she said. “Sorry, Al.”

Alya put her fists on her hips. “Can’t be THAT big a secret.”

Marinette shook her head. “It is, though.” And it was—she couldn’t tell Alya about how Adrien spent his days wearing leather, cracking puns, and getting thrown headfirst through brick walls. That part of him was hers, and hers alone. The realization thrilled her: no matter what else happened, there was one part of Adrien Agreste that would always belong to her. After all, he had millions of fans, but Chat only had one Ladybug.

Alya pouted. “Seriously? Nothing?”

Marinette smiled softly, her gaze drifting to the boy in the corner, talking with Nino. “He’s just... a tremendous dork,” she said. “And he thinks I’m pretty.”

Alya quirked an eyebrow. “Well, at least he ain’t blind.”

They shared a laugh at that, before Marinette suddenly clued into something that had been nagging at the back of her mind since she’d looked at Adrien. He was hanging back, keeping Nino—and himself—away from the door.

Adrien was planning to have lunch at home today. And Adrien didn’t want to go home.

She threw her backpack over her shoulder and wrapped her arms around Alya’s wrist, yanking her towards the boys (and ignoring her yelp of protest). “Hey guys,” she said. “The bakery had a big cookie order that got cancelled after they were already made, but they were specialty so we can’t resell them. Lunch at my place?”

The look of relief on Adrien’s face was all the reward she needed.


	4. Chapter 4

Kwami-dammit, and lunch had been going so well.

Ladybug backflipped, dodging another blast of acidic soup thrown from a club-like ladle. It hit the wall behind her with a sizzle, the exposed brick beginning to bubble and melt.

She’d actually been able to _talk_ to Adrien for once without being weird about it. Having her friends as a buffer helped; even knowing he was Chat, she wasn’t sure she could’ve held together for an entire meal with just him unless one of them was wearing a mask. He and Alya had been really excited about the new meme thread on the Ladyblog—pictures of Chat staring at food captioned “HE HONGRY,” one of her smashing an Akumatized item with her foot captioned “CRONCH,” and her favorite, one of her, fondly exasperated, tossing Chat into a garbage bin, offset with the caption “WER IN LOV”. Adrien had actually looked surprised when she giggled at that—she supposed he was too used to her vehemently denying those feelings any time they came up.

Well, there was no denying them now. Even if her kitty _did_ belong in a trash can.

And then Chloé had to go and throw her soup at a waiter.

It wasn’t the worst Akuma she’d ever faced—that crown went to Timebreaker, because Jesus, dead Chat and two Akuma at once—But Chat hadn’t arrived yet, and she was starting to wonder where the hell he was. They’d come from the same place, hadn’t they?

And besides, she was a little distracted.

”WER IN LOV.”

Was he?

Oh, sure, he flirted with her constantly, which was certainly a sign. But then, he’d flirted with Marinette too, and unless he knew her identity and didn’t tell her... but then, he’d been kind of flirty with Rena, hadn’t he?

She nonchalantly leaped over another blast of flung soup, pondering. Thinking about the rose he’d given her. Chances were better than even that he had feelings for her, but—she ducked a swing from the ladle, damn that thing looked heavy—she couldn’t be sure. What if he didn’t?

And anyway, _where was he_?

“Ready for the second course?”

Chat came out swinging, his baton clanging against the ladle-club in a parry he’d once tried to teach her during her disastrous foray into fencing. “Sorry I’m late, My Lady,” he said with a cheeky, embarrassed grin. “My Kwami fell asleep.”

She forgave him instantly. She’d forgive him anything if he just kept smiling at her like that.

The Akuma swung a hand, screaming incoherently, and Ladybug shoved down the part of her that was fixated on Chat’s face and tackled him out of the way. _It’s him, it’s him, it’s him,_ her pulse sang, and she took a moment to get her breathing under control as she realized how thin the spandex and leather were between their skins.

Which he, unfortunately, noticed. “Bugaboo?” he asked, concern in his voice. “Are you okay?”

And there was Adrien, peering out from behind Chat’s eyes, striking right at her heart. “Fffff-fine!” she yelped. “I’m fine!”

Chat grabbed her shoulders and rolled them both out of the way of another blast of hot broth. “You seem a bit nervous...”

”Only cause I’ve got a 50-kilogram boy on top of me,” she snapped back—then grimaced. Oh, Lord, she should NOT have said that...

He smirked. “You know, I don’t mind if you prefer to be on top.”

Even before he finished his sentence, though, he was already bracing, having read her intentions from the muscles in her abdomen. She used her feet to launch him upward, over the Akuma’s swinging ladle-club, and pinned his arm with his feet. “Just soup?” he said. “When’s the entree?”

“Ungrateful patrons don’t get service!” the Akuma screeched, trying to swing his other arm at Chat, only to find that Ladybug had already anchored it to a nearby streetlight with her yo-yo and a running leap. He shrieked and flexed his arm, trying to pull her forward—

“CATACLYSM!”

—but it was too late. The ladle was already broken, and the butterfly already released.

The butterfly was purified and the city repaired in short order, just another day in the routine for Ladybug and Chat Noir. What _wasn’t_ part of the routine was how, when she went in for her customary fist-bump, she suddenly found herself in a very familiar situation: halfway to the ground.

She’d tripped. Ladybug had _tripped_.

She wasn’t sure what was worse: the fact that it happened, her ungraceful shriek of surprise as her feet left the ground and her arms pinwheeled in open air, or Chat’s expression as he caught her shifting from shock to delight.

”Why, Bugaboo,” he smirked, “I think you might be falling for me.”

”Brrt, unoriginal line,” she grumbled, staring at the ground to hide the growing pink in her face. “Two minutes in the penalty box.”

”As long as you’re the one administering the punishment,” he replied.

Her breath caught, and then she groaned, covering her face. She’d been expecting the first line, but not the second—she’d been completely unprepared for the shockingly pleasant mental images that suddenly assaulted her composure. She felt herself grow uncomfortably warm.

”My... My Lady?” Chat stammered. Oh, he was still holding her, wasn’t he. Shit. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

”Let me die,” she groaned through her hands.

”Umm...”

She slid out of his arms and plopped to the ground, ungainly and gangly, all limbs and butt. “Sorry. Rough day,” she said, as if that explained anything. “I’ll tell you about it tonight?”

He looked at her, confused. “But we don’t have patrol tonight...”

”I’ll bring snacks.”

His entire face lit up, and she drew in a ragged breath as her entire abdomen _clenched_ at the sight. It wasn’t fair. She shouldn’t be having this much trouble functioning around her _dork of a partner_.

But there it was. He was _her_ dork.

”Eiffel Tower?” she offered, weakly.

”See you there,” he replied, extending his baton and launching himself off into the distance.

She hadn’t used Lucky Charm, so she busied herself with tending to the victim, trying to contain the racing thoughts in her brain. She had some planning to do for tonight.

The poor little kitty wasn’t going to know what hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://willlatree.tumblr.com/post/174678937245/galahadwilder-pluviofleur-wer-in-lov-i
> 
> Presented without comment.


	5. Chapter 5

_Remember to breathe. You’re Ladybug. You’ve fought giants, survived a zombie apocalypse, beat up a Tikki-damned t-Rex from the inside. It’s just Chat Noir. You can do this. Breathe._

Ladybug hummed tunelessly as she pointlessly rearranged the snacks and the picnic blanket for the fourth time. Would he like it better if she...? No. It wouldn’t make a difference. She was just trying to burn nervous energy, trying to vent the shaking that spread through every muscle. This was her partner. This was her Adrien. He trusted her, and she trusted him. Things would be okay.

She kept shaking anyway.

Why had she even shown up so early?

She’d thought about baking a cake special for this, but there hadn’t been time. Not with the other project—the one for tomorrow. This was a two-part plan. But then she’d finished—she’d _finished_ —and there’d been nothing else to do. So she couldn’t keep waiting around her house. She had to get out, get moving...

And here she was.

And there he was.

”Evening, My Lady,” he said, his boots colliding softly with Eiffel Tower steel. “Is that a... picnic blanket?”

Ladybug giggled at the befuddlement written across his face. “Yes, it is, Kitty!” she said. “I brought some of your favorites.” She held up a fresh box of Pain au Chocolat.

”You know me so well,” Chat said with a grin, accepting the package and tearing through it with his claws. He stuffed one into his mouth. “Sho whash ‘e occashun?”

“Does there have to be one?” Ladybug said, opening a slice of cheesecake. “Maybe I just wanted to spoil my favorite kitty.”

Chat stared at her, swallowed. “Okay, something’s _definitely_ up,” he said. “What’s wrong?”

”Nothing at all,” Ladybug murmured, struck by the sudden concern on his face. The rush of _Adrien, Adrien, Adrien_. She blushed. “Everything’s... wonderful.”

Chat stared at her, then his baton was in his hand. “Where’s the Akuma?” he said, leaping to his feet. “Don’t worry, bugaboo, I’ll fix this, I can—”

”Chat, stop!” she yelped, yanking his arm. “No Akuma. Just... had a really good day today.” She smiled softly.

Chat looked at her, incredulous, but then stowed his baton and sat down. “And you’re sure you’re okay.”

She nodded.

”Then... I guess...” He looked over the picnic basket, the assorted snacks stamped _Dupain-Cheng Boulangerie & Patisserie_, and smirked. “Must’ve been a _pain_ lugging all this up here.”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “Oh my god, Kitty, just eat!”

”Gladly.” He grinned, ripping off another chunk of chocolatey bread with his teeth. ( _Teef!_ Ladybug’s internal squee-voice exclaimed.) “So what’s got you feeling so weird today? You were super off after the Akuma battle.”

She could tell him, but first... first she had to know. “Want to play truth or dare?” she said. Deflection.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re nervous.”

”Just... humor me. Please?”

He sighed, and chuckled. “I could never deny you anything, bugaboo. Okay. Dare.”

She cracked a smile. “Tell one joke that doesn’t have a pun involved.”

Chat narrowed his eyes. “But puns are the best!”

”Don’t care, too many,” she said. “One joke.”

”Fine,” he huffed, crossing his arms. “What’s green, fuzzy, and will kill you if it falls out of a tree.”

Ladybug blinked. “Uh...” she said. “I... have no idea?”

”A pool table.”

She snorted. “Oh my god, Kitty, that was terrible!” she exclaimed, attempting—and failing—to hide her giggle.

”Doesn’t matter, made you laugh,” he responded. His whole face had lit up when she’d giggled, she realized. If that was how he reacted to her laughing...

”My turn,” she said. “I pick truth.”

And that was the game: they dared each other to do stupid crap all the time, but he was right, she’d never allowed them to play truth or dare, because of what might come out. Personal lives had to be kept separate, secrets had to be kept—but not anymore.

Still, Chat was as respectful as she’d expected him to be, keeping his question impersonal despite how much his body _screamed_ His desire to ask something more intimate. “What’s your favorite color?”

”Pink,” she said immediately. “I love how soft it is. It’s... welcoming.” She smiled at him, nervous. Would it work? Would he...? “Your turn.”

He grinned. “Truth.”

Trap _sprung._

She knew he’d never pick truth if she chose dare—so long as she wanted her secrets, he’d never impede on them. But if she’d picked truth... well, she knew he’d never be able to resist.

She took a breath, shaking, tried to steady herself. Rubbed her hands on her knees.

Chat’s eyes grew concerned. “My Lady, are you—”

“Are you in love with me?”

All expression dropped from Chat’s face. His whole body went slack, every one of the tiny signals that he sent going into complete shutdown as he tried to process a question he never thought he’d have to answer. Even if he hadn’t been allergic, in that moment, she could have knocked him over with a feather.

“Why, My Lady,” he rasped, “you know I would do anything for—”

She stood and wrapped her fingers around his bicep. “Please, Chat,” she said. “You’ve been deflecting the answer to that question for long enough. And... I know this is weird, okay?” She choked—half-giggle, half-sob. “Just... no jokes, okay? No half-truths, no laughing it off. Just yes or no.” She wiped her eyes; hadn’t even realized she was crying. “Are you in love with me?”

Chat stared at her like—well, like the sun. A glare too harsh, a brightness and warmth and yet a power great enough to burn his eyes out. Like it was painful to look, and yet he couldn’t turn away. And he... he didn’t breathe. For a full ten seconds.

Then finally...

“Yes,” he rasped. His jaw trembled, and she could see the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I’ve loved you since the day we met.”

She reached both hands up and twined her fingers through his hair, heard his breath stop and she buried herself against his body. “Please,” She murmured. “Please mean it.”

”I... I’m dreaming. I have to be,” Chat said. “There’s no way...”

She shook her head, pigtails bouncing off his chest. “You’re not dreaming, Chat,” she said. “I... did you mean it?”

She looked up at him, and saw him staring down at her, eyes sparkling. “Hey,” he said. “I dare you to kiss me.”

She smiled and wiped her eyes. “Stupid Kitty,” she said, and then surged onto her toes.

It was everything she’d ever wanted. And, Kwamis, he tasted so good, cologne and chocolate bread and whatever it was that lips tasted like, hot and soft against her lips, his breath filling her lungs like the Miraculous Cure, a thousand tiny ladybugs beating through her veins, her muscles, her nerves, every bit of her screaming _mine, mine, **mine**_. He loved her.

She broke the kiss with a gasp. Loathe as she was to break away from him, there was something she needed to say.

”Chat Noir,” she said. “I am in love with you.”

She could feel him melt in her arms. “Please,” he whispered. “Say it again.”

”Chat Noir,” she said, stretching up to kiss him again, “I am hopelessly—” — _kiss_ — “—helplessly—” — _kiss_ — “—desperately in love with you.”

Chat gave a strangled gasp. “My Lady, you don’t even know my name—”

”Adrien,” she mumbled, pressing her head against his chest. “You’re my Adrien.”

She could feel his pulse quicken at her words, feel his breath catch in his lungs. “You—you know,” he whispered. “Which one of us—”

She reached up to tweak his nose with a grin. “There is no ‘which one,’ Chat. I had a crush on Chat, and I had a crush on Adrien, but I fell in love with _you_. The whole you. The kindest heart _and_ the loudest mouth in Paris.”

He swallowed. "Please," he said. "I have to know who you are."

She tried to tell him. She really did. But when she opened her mouth, no sound came out. "I... I can't."

"You...?"

"I want you to know," she murmured. "But I can't... I can't bring myself to tell you."

"Ladybug--"

"You know me, Adrien," she whispered. "Find me."

"I swear to you," he said, stroking her hair. "I swear I will."


	6. Chapter 6

The only reason Adrien knew he wasn’t dreaming was that he’d completely failed to fall asleep the night before.

He felt weak, fragile, like sand transmuted to glass after a lightning strike. Every part of him buzzed, his muscles screaming their tension no matter how many times he stretched. His roiling stomach—and the unfortunate flatulence—were the price he knew he’d pay for his sleepless night, but...

But it didn’t matter. Because something inconceivable, impossible, _incredible_ had happened, and every part of his mind had been flushed to make room for the sensation of her. She loved him. She kissed him. She wanted him to find her.

The tightness in his chest, the sensation of _finally_ being so close, had allowed him no rest. His mind raced through every girl he knew—his hair and eyes changed whenever he put on the mask, and Lila’s had even changed color, so he had no criteria to work from save the smell of cinnamon in her hair. He knew at least ten models who preferred cinnamon perfume, but none of them were the right age, or body type.

Whatever parts of the night hadn’t been spent on a desperate attempt to eliminate possibilities were occupied with decidedly more... fevered imaginings. Tearful confessions, frenzied kisses, the taste of her breath on his skin...

He was occasionally thankful for the discretion of the staff who changed his sheets.

Now, at school, his sleepless night was catching up to him. His eyelids dragged downward, and it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing onto his face.

”Hey, man, you okay?” Nino said, staring at him with concern. He held his stylus upright. “Here, follow the pen with your eyes.”

Adrien languidly slapped it away. “I’m not concussed, Nino,” he said. “Just couldn’t sleep last night.”

”Oh?” Nino said, raising his eyebrow. “Any dirty Ladybug fantasies you want to share with the class?”

Adrien’s eyes slipped downward as his diaphragm curled in on itself, his face heating with the unwelcome blush.

Nino swallowed. “Dude, I was kidding. TMI.”

”You asked,” Adrien mumbled into his desk.

”Fair enough, fair enough,” Nino replied. “You gonna be okay for class today?”

”Yeah,” Adrien responded, bringing his eyes up as Alya entered the classroom. “I should be fi—”

He was immediately contradicted when Alya was followed by a blushing, giggling Marinette Dupain-Cheng in a tiny. Black. Swing. Skirt.

Adrien suddenly forgot how to breathe.

_Seventy souls were lost today when Adrien Agreste’s train of thought derailed, killing all passengers aboard. Reports indicate that the conductor was distracted by a cute girl in a skirt—_

“Hey, man, you okay?” Nino said.

Adrien blinked, swallowed, said nothing.

“Morning, Adrien!” Marinette chirped with a cheerful wave and a... bounce... of... her... hips, her skirt swishing playfully around her legs. She was wearing red tights and a fitted red turtleneck sweater, color matched to the ribbons in her pigtails. She ran her fingers across his desk as she walked past. “How’s your mouth?”

”M... mouth?”

”From surgery, silly.”

She sat down at her desk and crossed her legs, and _holy cats those weren’t tights._ He turned away before he could get more than a glimpse of bare thigh, locking his eyes on the board, away from her and her skirt and her red thigh socks.

_Don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare, don’t stare don’t stare don’t stare_

He’d always thought Marinette was cute. In fact, if not for Ladybug, he imagined that he might have had a crush on _her_ instead. But he didn’t, and she didn’t think of him that way either—they were friends. Good friends.

_**Good friends didn’t think about each other’s legs like that.** _

_Honestly, what do you think she’d say if she knew you were imagining her wrapping her legs around your waist and..._

He mentally slapped himself. Bad Adrien, bad train of thought, you’re being creepy and weird, that is not how you think around friends! If she knew, she’d be weirded out, she’d never want to speak to you again—

“Are those Ladybug flats?” Nino asked. “They’re adorable.”

Marinette giggled. “Yeah,” she said. “I felt inspired yesterday. Coordinated my whole outfit around them actually.”

Adrien’s head snapped around before he could stop himself, and she was indeed wearing black flats with sequined Ladybugs sewn across their length.  _Ladybug_ , he thought. _Think about Ladybug. Not Marinette’s feet. Do not think about Marinette’s feet do not think about Marinette’s feet DO NOT THINK ABOUT MARINETTE’S FEET_

He was thinking about Marinette’s feet.

With some effort, he managed to tear his eyes away from her arches, but that wasn’t much better—her skirt had settled around her butt, granting him a perfect view of the tops of her thigh-highs and where they met skin. He could practically HEAR the steam venting from his ears. How much of this would he be able to blame on sleeplessness?

He finally managed to turn and slam his head into the desk, ignoring his friends’ concerned murmurs. Today was going to be a looooong day.

* * *

Marinette couldn’t help feeling a touch of satisfaction as Adrien wandered face-first into the doorframe. “I’m fine!” he yelped as Nino reached to help him.

It was nice to know that she didn’t need to have her butt shrink-wrapped in spandex to discombobulate him. She’d seen the way he bugged out (bugged? Really? She was spending too much time around Chat) when he’d seen her legs, and how he’d been steadfastly avoiding looking at her all morning. Or, at least, trying to. After months of him not even knowing she was there, the thought of having such an effect on him was giving her the warm fuzzies.

”Jesus, girl,” Alya said. “I think you killed him.”

Marinette turned to her and smiled. “Duh,” she said. “Why do you think I wore this today?” She swished her skirt around her legs.

Alya’s eyes widened. “You mean you _meant_  to do that?”

Marinette nodded, her eyes sparkling.

Alya stared for a moment, then raised her hands and bowed. “O Smaug,” she intoned, “chiefest and greatest of calamities.” She turned to Adrien with a grin. “If he didn’t know you were here before... he sure as hell does now.”

Marinette giggled. “Oh, Alya,” she said. “I’m not even close to done with him yet.” She tilted her head, watching Adrien struggle his way out of the classroom. “I may need your help for this next bit.”

Alya grinned. “Shenanigans?”

Marinette nodded. “Shenanigans.”

* * *

”Okay, man, what was that?” Nino said through a mouthful of sandwich.

“Hmm?” Adrien said, barely paying attention. He was barely even eating his soup—soft food only for a few days—too fixated on the wall across from him, mentally imposing an image of Ladybug smiling at him on the white brickwork. She loved him.

”You got all squirrelly this morning as soon as Marinette walked in.”

Adrien’s spoon slid from his fingers and smashed into the calm surface of the soup bowl, splattering both Nino and Adrien with broth. “Oh God,” Adrien moaned, covering his face in his hands. “Please, don't remind me.”

”I mean, it wasn’t _that_ bad,” Nino said. “Honestly, bro, it was kinda funny.”

”I made an idiot of myself,” Adrien groaned. “In front of Marinette.”

Nino smirked. “The skirt?”

Adrien nodded. “And the socks...”

Nino snatched Adrien’s spoon out of his soup and jabbed him with it. “Ooooh, bro has a _kink_!”

Adrien slapped his hand away. “Dude, please!”

Nino dropped the spoon back in Adrien’s soup, then tore off a bite of his sandwich. “Oo should ash ‘er ouwe.”

”What?”

Nino swallowed. “You should ask her out!”

Adrien shook his head. “Nino, we’ve been over this.”

”I know, I know,” Nino said. “You’re in love with Ladybug.” He leaned forward. “But, I mean, do you really think that’s ever gonna happen?”

Adrien chuckled. _Joke’s on you_ , he thought.

”I’m serious, man,” Nino said. “Aside from your completely impossible crush, what reasons do you have for not going for her?”

Had this been any other day, that actually might have swayed him. But last night, everything had shifted—last night, Ladybug had told him she loved him. He just needed to find her.

”Come on, man,” Adrien said. “Not going over this again.”

”Ugh, fine,” Nino said, turning back to his sandwich. “But I’m not the one who nearly collapsed because Mari decided to show a bit of leg.”

* * *

Adrien went back to class prepared. He knew what Marinette was wearing, now—he wasn’t going to let it take him by surprise.

He turned the corner into the classroom, and— _surprise_.

“Oh, yeah, I spilled flour all over my clothes,” Marinette was saying. “I had to change.”

White blouse. Green poodle skirt, except with a playful-looking black cat instead of a poodle. Cat-themed tights, the ones that looked like thigh-highs with little cat faces peeking over the tops. And then... on top of... on top of her head...

_Black_

_Leather_

_Cat_

_Ears._

Adrien just about had a heart attack.


	7. Chapter 7

 “So what you’re telling is that Adrien is a furry,” Alya said.

”He’s not a furry!” Marinette protested as she pulled the tights over her legs. “He’s just... super into superheroes.”

”Uh huh,” Alya said. “And the ears?”

Marinette glanced down at the leather cat ears that were lying on her desk and tried to suppress a shiver. “That’s... that’s just...”

”Well, looks like you have something in common,” Alya said, leaning back in the chaise and crossing her arms with a smirk.

Marinette slapped Alya on the shoulder. “Alyaaaa...!”

She shrugged. “Hey, I’m not judging,” she said. “So, what’s the plan?”

”I’m gonna say I spilled flour on myself,” Marinette said as she buttoned her blouse. “Can you back me up on that?”

”Sure, girl,” Alya said. “But aren’t you worried you’re going to intimidate him? What if he doesn’t say anything?”

”Oh, don’t worry,” Marinette said with a smile that even she couldn’t place between innocent and predatory. “He won’t have to.” She grabbed the ear headband and slid it over her hair, the stood and spun in place, her green skirt flaring around her hips. “Well?” she said. “What do you think?”

Alya whistled. “Holy crap, girl,” she said. “I think _I_ might be a furry.”

* * *

Marinette was starting to get frustrated.

Adrien had been stealing glances back at her all afternoon, and she could tell he was having a lot of trouble focusing as long as he knew she was behind him, but try as she might, she couldn’t see that spark of recognition that would indicate that he’d figured it out. She needed to send more hints, but there was only so much she could do in class without attracting the teacher’s attention—or worse, her classmates’. Chloé had been staring, though astoundingly she hadn’t tried to insult her clothing choices—aside from a single glare when Alix has fake-coughed “useless lesbian.” Still, she could only stretch Chloé’s patience so far before she snapped and caused another Akuma.

And Adrien _wasn’t catching on_.

How many more hints did her kitten need? She could see how occupied he was with her; every errant muscle twitch seemed to have one of her names written all over it. (Unless she missed her guess, every relax was him thinking about Ladybug, and every tension was him thinking about Marinette.) She was driving him insane, she could _see_ him going insane, and the cure was sitting _two feet behind him_ , you stupid cat, just _think_! Stop being a gentleman for twenty seconds—!

But no. That was Adrien, and that was part of what she loved about him.

Wearing these ears in public was embarrassing enough without having to stew in her own desire as she watched Adrien’s train of thought derail again and again with imaginings of her. This... may have been a bad idea.

She just hoped he’d figure it out before one of them imploded.

* * *

Adrien was about ready to implode.

Class passed him by in a haze. He took no notes, answered no questions, barely even looked at the board. He was too busy trying not to go insane. The girl that occupied his heart and the girl that wouldn’t get out of his head were warring for every bit of his sleep-deprived attention, and whichever of them won, Adrien was losing. He kept replaying Ladybug’s tearful confession in his mind, ultra-fine HD, every detail as lovingly rendered as he could recall—the scent of her, cinnamon and sweat; the taste of her in his mouth, soft and hot and yielding; the feel of her under his hands; but invariably his mind would get stuck on a pair of leather cat ears, and suddenly Ladybug was Marinette, and the suit was a pair of red spandex polka-dotted thigh-highs, and Marinette was on him and somehow filling his nose with the same scent as his Lady, and everything in him went tense. His thoughts kept betraying him—he was supposed to be a gentleman, and yet he kept mentally cheating on the woman he loved. It was driving him insane.

When class finally dismissed, he practically threw all of his things into his backpack, haphazard instead of his usual care, desperate to escape the presence of the suddenly unbearably attractive girl behind him. But... black cat luck. Fate wasn’t finished with him yet.

”Hey, Adrien?” she said. “Can I ask you for help with something?”

Adrien’s diaphragm clenched so hard he swore it was going to collapse. “Of course,” he said, his voice gentle, even as every part of him screamed _get away!_ “What’s up?”

”Well, the thing is, it’s sort of...” she coughed. “Private.” She stared at the ground, giving him a perfect view of the soft leather _PLAGG DAMN IT BRAIN STOP THAT_. “Do you mind if we stay behind a bit?”

”I... uh, sure?”

He tried to keep his eyes from wandering as his classmates filed out of the room, he honestly did. But Marinette was impossible to keep his eyes away from. He was just thankful that she couldn’t read his mind, because if she knew how he was thinking about her, he might die of embarrassment.

Nino patted him reassuringly on the shoulder as he left, and Alya shot Marinette a cheeky grin, and then they were left alone.

”What’s up?” he said, barely managing to stop himself from tacking a “Princess” on the end. He was too used to interacting with her as Chat—he was fairly certain she wouldn’t react nearly as well if Adrien had brought her the gift of a leaf. “You said you need my help?”

Marinette squeezed her knees together, her fingers clenched and intertwined, her thumbs dancing uselessly towards her palms. “So...” She stopped, air escaping from her lungs, then breathed back in, stealing herself. “There’s this guy.”

Adrien actually _did_ implode then.

He had no right to be jealous, no right to the collapsing feeling in his gut. He was with Ladybug now, and she loved him, and that should have been all that mattered. Yet, suddenly, Marinette’s words had ripped open his heart and smashed like shrapnel against his shredded lungs. He held his breath in as he forced down his jealousy. “Okay?” he said, hoping his voice wasn’t quite as strangled as it sounded.

”I’m trying to attract his attention, but... I’m not sure it’s working?” Marinette said with a toss of her pigtails. She seemed to be gaining confidence as she spoke.

”Well,” Adrien breathed, “what have you tried so far?”

Marinette smirked. “Well, you know,” she said, “I don’t usually dress like this.”

”So, he’s a...” Adrien looked her up and down. Cursory, of course. “Big fan of cats, then?”

Marinette nodded with a giggle. “He makes puns about them all the time.”

”And... the Ladybug stuff?”

Marinette glanced down at her feet, as if remembering for the first time what she’d been wearing that morning. “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Apparently he’s got a huge crush on Ladybug? Thought I’d play into it.”

Adrien barely contained a growl. _MY Lady_ , came the unbidden thought. “What else can you... tell me about him?”

Marinette sighed, putting a finger to her cheek, and Adrien’s heart swelled at the cuteness of the gesture. “Well,” she said, “he’s brave. And gentlemanly. And self-sacrificing. And just... the BIGGEST dork.” She locked eyes with him. “He brought me a leaf once, as a gift. Seemed super proud of himself.”

 _Leaf_. HE’d brought her a leaf. Did she... had she...? Her eyes drilled into his, and he could swear she was staring straight into his soul. Oh god. What did she...?

She smirked. “You need to be more careful with your phone calls, Kitty,” she said. “Apparently you like to ramble when you’re high.”

Adrien couldn’t breathe.

Oh, _Kwamis_ , he couldn’t... he couldn’t...

For a moment, he dared to hope that maybe he’d misheard her. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe she hadn’t said...

But no. She’d called him Kitty. He’d _called her_ after his wisdom teeth surgery, and apparently he’d _confessed to being Chat Noir._ This was bad. This was very bad. This was very very very very—

“Adrien?” Marinette was staring at him, her eyes like water on a summer day. “Are you okay?”

He realized he’d curled in on himself, begun hyperventilating. “You know,” he croaked. “She’s... she’s gonna kill me...”

”Oh, Kitty,” Marinette said, sliding under the desk between them and gathering his head in her arms. “Shh, shh, shh. I’m not mad.”

”She’s gonna... she’s...”

Marinette huffed. “Ugh, Kwamis,” she grumbled. “How many more hints do you _need_?”

Through his panic, Adrien managed to notice two things. The first: Marinette had said “Kwamis.” A word that no one in Paris knew except for him and his Lady.”

Two: as he breathed in gasps ragged air, he realized how close she was. And how much Marinette Dupain-Cheng smelled like cinnamon.

His breath caught. He swallowed. “...Ladybug?” he said, weakly.

She giggled, and oh, god, her laugh was like sunshine. “Hi, _Minou_.”

It was like he’d been looking at her through a dirty film, and it had suddenly been torn away from his eyes. Realization hit him with the force of a hurricane, sandblasting his face, catching his heart like a sail on the typhoon winds and carrying him, carrying him away. Ladybug was the tempest, and Marinette was the port in the storm.

How could he have ever thought he’d known what love felt like until this moment?

He stared at her, his eyes wide, like looking at a world made new. “This... this is what you meant, isn’t it?” he said. “When you said you fell in love with both of me.”

He could see her, now, read her body language like he’d always done with the girl in the mask, and today it was screaming at him, shouting her love and adoration for him in a language only he could hear. She’d been reading him like that for days, he realized. She’d known.

She nodded, her grin stretching wider than he’d known her face could accommodate—and, it being Marinette, that was really saying something. “I can’t believe it took you this long,” she said. “I practically had ‘Property of Chat Noir’ stamped on my ass all day.” She looked down, swishing her cat skirt around her cat leggings.

He smirked. “So you’re mine, then, are you?”

She smiled back at him. “All yours.”

He wrapped his arms around her, bringing her in close. “And I’ve been yours since the day we met.”

They waited there like that, for a long moment, holding each other, before Marinette broke the silence. “Hey Adrien,” she said.

”Yeah?”

”I dare you to kiss me.”

He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “Gladly, My Lady,” he said.

He could swear it felt like fireworks.


End file.
